


His Butler, Taunted

by perfchan



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M, probably mostly canon compliant, sinister!Sebastian, this is not fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:29:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6082899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfchan/pseuds/perfchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Earl of Phantomhive discovers that even a demon's patience has limits. Quick drabble in which Ciel is injured and he pushes Sebastian just a little too far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Butler, Taunted

“Young master, please remove your hand.”

Ciel waves Sebastian away, as he strides through his manor towards the bathroom, cradling his left ear in one hand. His butler follows after, mock concern very quickly turning to irritation.

Ciel arrives at his destination, the bathroom sink. Removing his eyepatch, he promptly (and very inelegantly) hoists himself up, one thigh perilously balanced on the rim of the basin whilst the other hangs down, still too short to reach the floor. He peers into the mirror so close his nose is almost touching it, examining his injury.

“Tch, the bastard tore it straight through. No wonder it hurt like hell.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow at his choice of words, but resumes, pleading, “Young master, if you will just let me see, perhaps…”

Ciel ignores him, further inspecting his earlobe.

“Young master.” Sebastian does not very well tolerate being ignored and pleas turn into something darker. “Remove your hand so that I may see the injury.” Grabbing one of Ciel’s wrists in one hand, he uses the other to turn the boy’s head so he can look at the small wound. His gloved hand grasps Ciel’s chin and jaw tightly. He is not gentle.

Ciel had been captured, and although the captors themselves have now suffered the nastiest sort of end, they did manage to rough the boy up a bit. The earring on his left ear was stolen, ripped out of his ear most unceremoniously. Now that his butler might finally see it, this small, torn earlobe hardly seems significant when stacked up against the multitude of other grievances he’s suffered in his rather bloodstained past. However, blood there is, a small drop of it, staining a crimson circle on the finger of Sebastian’s otherwise spotless gloves.

Still unable to move thanks to Sebastian’s grip, Ciel studies the butler’s expression. The demon does not like to see his blood spilled, true, but his once his initial reaction of rage towards the spillers has been satisfied, it is always underpinned with something that would most be likened to elation. He masks it very well, Ciel observes: any upturning of his lips quickly snuffed, fiery eyes purposefully downcast, licking of his lips most discrete.

“With the application of some antiseptic and a bandage, I think it will heal nicely, my lord,” Sebastian begins to loosen his grip.

“From the look on your face, demon, I would expect you hardly cares if it heals at all.” Ciel sneers, “Just like a beast, getting excited at the sight of blood. Why don’t you have a bite, see if my flavor’s worth it…”

He may have continued, but the butler’s grip tightened once more, this time dangerously close to his throat.

His butler’s voice is so close to his ear, he can feel Sebastian’s breath. “My foolish master. You would do well to refrain from taunting me so.” He lowers his mouth to the cut and, indeed, tastes.

Ciel feels the cold porcelain of the sink against his thighs as he instinctively squirms against Sebastian’s grip. But his legs kick uselessly at air, he is unable to gain any sort of purchase, although even at his full strength he would not be able to break free of his butler’s grip.

The mirror too is cold, and Ciel’s head is pressed against it as Sebastian’s mouth moves from his ear to his neck, hot and wet…he can feel the thrumming of his jugular under those teeth and both his eyes are wide, he’s struggling to speak, to order….

And then, nothing. Sebastian releases him, takes a full step back. Ciel is left panting in the sink, breaths coming ragged and short, feeling far more vulnerable now than from any street thugs. Sebastian’s appearance is as always, face returned to its veneer of docility. As though nothing has happened, he tugs the pocket watch out of his vest to check the time, snaps it shut, disinterested.

“My lord, you have time for a quick bath before I must prepare your supper. I will run the water now if you wish?”

Ciel nods, his hand rising to his neck. It is still slightly wet.

**Author's Note:**

> Had to get this out of my system after posting far more fluffy fics for Christmas and Valentine's Day. I prefer my Sebastian demon-y and my Ciel bratty. Thanks for reading~


End file.
